Category Archives: Cheering

So, today I got to cheer for some of the 60,000 runners who undertook a wet, soggy Peachtree Road Race. I was supposed to run, but am trying not to aggravate a slow-to-heal injury from Ragnar Chicago. I was very responsible and decided to forego the race and serve as chauffeur/cheerleader for my husband, sister, brother-in-law, and friends.

So that is how I ended up outside the Flying Biscuit in midtown at 7:30 this morning, ready to cheer on runners at the busiest corner of the race. The intersection of Piedmont and 10th streets is just .2 miles from the finish, on the middle of an uphill push to the end. Also, it allows easy access to, you know, biscuits. And coffee. I was all coffeed up, outside and ready to cheer by the time the elite women went by.

I was alone, but I had brought my trusty cowbell so I could make some noise and give the runners a push. When I say there was a monsoon going on in Atlanta the past two days, I’m not kidding. That’s what the meteorologists said was happening due some tropical moisture that has dumped a ton of rain on the area. There were runners who opted out of the race due to the forecast, and so of course there were more spectators who chose to sleep in, too. And fewer people to cheer is… kind of a bummer. But I was ready to pick up the slack!

Then, the mere mortals–the very, very fast mere mortals started to turn the corner and run toward us. Soon the street was filled with runners. Filled. Like this:And so it goes. When this picture was taken, there were still people six miles away who wouldn’t even start the race for almost another hour. This crowd is massive, and this is not an easy race. I thought of a sweet post on my NuunHood to Coast teammate Megan’s blog, and knew that I, too, would not stop cowbelling. The crowds were already thinner than usual today. A lot of people really struggle as they make their way along 10th Street. I spotted several people I knew, and I yelled for them and rang the cowbell. I also yelled and cowbelled for… well, everyone. I saw Katie go by, I saw Jesica, and then my husband go by, and, just as I was looking for my sister and her husband and Melissa…

*tap tap tap* went a finger on my shoulder. I turned around.

“Ma’am,” said a man. “I know you’re cheering, but, I have a headache. Could you please stop cowbelling?”

“But…” I gestured toward the throngs, THE THRONGS of people running the race. The people who were passing by THE BUSIEST (read: loudest) CHEERING INTERSECTION OF THE WHOLE RACE. The people who needed a push. The people who just appreciate the crowd. The people who say “Thank you!!!” and come over for a high five.

“But I’m cheering for them,” I said.

“I know, but I have a headache. From the clanging. Can you just give it a rest for a few minutes?”

At that point, I suddenly grew very tired. I didn’t feel like fighting. I didn’t feel like being a jerk. I knew by that point that I’d probably get to our meeting area around the same time as my sister, and it was time for me to head out anyway. I looked at him and said, “Wow,” and then headed down 10th toward Piedmont Park to meet up with my family.

My sister and brother-in-law both told me that they looked for me, and I wasn’t there. I hate that the most about the situation. So here’s my question–what would you have done? I know that cowbells are loud and not everyone likes them. But… it’s a race. If you don’t want to be around noise, I might suggest bowing out of your runner’s cheer section?

My sister suggested I do my best Will Ferrell, but I wasn’t quite up to it:

What do you think, trusty friends and readers? I want to know.

I cheer for you, Sea of Humanity. Cowbell, or no cowbell, I cheer for you!

This marks the first time in three years that I attended the Wisconsin Marathon but didn’t run it (the half, anyway). Back in January, I had decided to forego it in lieu of running the Soldier Field 10-miler in late May, with my sister and Kristiana. I knew I’d miss it but figured I’d deal. However, after my dear friend Katie narrowly missed qualifying for Boston in February at Myrtle Beach, it came up again as an option for another try for her, and ended up being the race she decided on. Since I know the course (half of it, anyway) and the area, and since I love a good runcation, I quickly volunteered to go with her for race support, and to drag Kristiana (who got me into running in the first place) along for the ride.

We flew into Chicago on Friday morning and picked up Kristiana at her (amazing, 39th floor) place before heading straight for Kenosha. I was super duper (hi, i’m in 3rd grade) excited to show Katie so much of the Upper Midwest that I adore so we immediately started packing everything we could into the trip. We stopped first at the Lake Forest Oasis, because they just don’t build large rest stop/gas station/Starbucks combos over the interstate in Georgia. I went with a risky choice for lunch–chicken kebabs from a no-name Greek place and enjoyed them with a view of… cars.

Katie and Jake

The Blues Brothers and Me.

Chicago was dreary Friday. But still beautiful.

Kebabs. On the Interstate.

We crossed the border into Wisconsin and headed toward packet pickup. Just off the interstate, we saw the Jelly Belly factory and store and stopped in to get goodies for children: Jelly-Belly Uno games and toasted marshmallow jelly beans. I also picked up some very strangely colored “Irregular” Jelly Belly Sport Beans for a little bit of nothing. Jelly beans. This trip was already going well.

Tourists. Jelly Belly Tourists.

Jelly beans

Packet pickup for this thing was short and sweet, one of the things I love about this race. It took about 7 minutes total. Then we drove the course, so Katie would know what to expect, and since I wanted to see the other half of it. After that, it was off to the hotel to settle in and get dinner. We ate at the restaurant in our hotel, The Chancery, which is a local chain that has a lot of Wisconsin specialties–five cheese French onion soup, cheese curds, and lots of beef. Kristiana and I both got a grass-fed Angus burger, no bun, with sweet potato tots, and man, it was good. Katie got -shocker- pasta, and should you choose to eat at The Chancery before this race, you should know that the portion sizes are smallish, so order a large. After dinner we hit up Walgreens for some toiletries and poster board and then went back to get Katie race-ready. I snuck in my mile to continue my run streak, made some signs, and then put Katie’s name on her shirt with KT Tape so she’d have support when Kristiana and I weren’t around. Then it was lights out in preparation for a 5AM wakeup call.

The race was on May 4th. Get it?

The next morning went smoothly and we were at the race start by 6:20. Katie warmed up and Kristiana and I found Kim, who is a fellow Nuun Hood to Coast teammate this year. She was ready to go for a PR in the 1/2 marathon but sweetly met up with me and we had a few minutes to chat. I loved getting to meet another of the ladies that I’ll be running with in August.

Kim and me! Next time I see her we’ll be ready to run HTC!

Soon it was time for Katie to get in her corral and we walked her toward the start. The race lets people wearing cheese-related apparel into the first “corral” (truth be told, there are no corrals in this race, just a self-seeded start) and so it was fun to get a chance to see that, for once, since I wasn’t lined up behind them. After a moment of silence for Boston, a round of applause for the first-responders, and the National Anthem, they were off. I started my Garmin as I watched Katie cross the mats, rang the cowbell a few times, and then headed for the Harborside Coffeehouse. With a 7AM start in May, it was pretty chilly at the start, and coffee is always good. Plus, the coffee shop sits at the 4.5-mile and 11-mile mark for both the 1/2 and the full, so it’s a great place to cheer without having to be terribly mobile.

Cheese runners.

That’s Katie in fluorescent yellow hat the middle of the picture.

The view of the lake near the coffeehouse.

We got coffee and watched the leaders go by. Actor Mark Ruffalo is from Kenosha, and his brother Andy is usually in the top two finishers for the Wisconsin Marathon Half. So if you’re watching the leaders in the race, you get to see the sibling of a famous person. Hey, hey!

Soon it was 7:30 and we went outside to watch for Katie. She came through looking strong and we held up our signs and yelled and yelled. Then we kept cheering for a bit, until we saw my friend Angie come by, and Kim too. We had made double-sided signs–one side just for Katie and the other for everyone else, and so we spread some good cheer around until we got cold and holed up in the coffeeshop again.

Kristiana and I had a few minutes to visit before Katie came back through at mile 11. She was perfectly on pace, looking strong and as happy as I’ve seen her look when she’s focused (one of her great strengths is race focus, in my opinion). After she passed, Kristiana and I headed to the car to shed some layers since we both had some running of our own to do. Kristiana is in the early stages of planning for the Paris 10-miler (illness set aside her plans to do Soldier Field, unfortunately) and was going to do 5 miles before heading to the finish to watch for Katie. My job, was to get myself to mile 23 to try and run Katie in the last part of the race. I say try because her planned pace (8:15) would mean that 3.2 miles would be major PR pace for me. I’d been training for it, but I was nervous.

I used the 3 mile distance between downtown and the 23-mile mark as a nice, long warmup. I’ve run in this part of Wisconsin many times, while visiting friends, running this race, and doing Ragnar Chicago. I just love it. Scenic and flat, and particularly when the weather is nice, there’s just no place nicer.

I got to the mile 23 mark with about 15 minutes to spare so I cheered and yelled for the runners. Saw my friend Tracy’s husband Jon, who I wasn’t expecting and who I’m sure had NO clue who I was, but I hollered for him anyway. ‘Cause that’s what I do!

I saw Katie round the corner about .25 away, and yelled really loud and cheerleader kicked for her. As she came closer I realized my cheering time had taken its toll on my warmup, and that I needed a little head start to work up to her pace. I started to run as she came toward me. My Garmin was not giving me pace info–something about having the time on it run for so long when we weren’t moving at the start seemed to make it not want to give me a pace when I was moving. So I have no real idea how fast I was going. I can run 9:00 miles and 10:00 miles by feel. Faster than 9:00 miles and I don’t really know how fast I’m going. But it seemed like it was taking her longer to get to me than it should have. So I slowed.

She caught me quickly after that but as soon as I saw her, I could tell things were not good. She has agreed to write a blog post about the race that I’ll post later this week. We had not gone but about .5 when she tearfully said, “Not today, Lindsay. Not today.” I am rarely without words but I was not prepared to hear that. That’s how well-trained she was. I’d watched her training logs on Daily Mile. I’d seen her run. There had not been a doubt in my mind that she would get this BQ done. So, I wracked my brain for the right words. I worked on being encouraging to her regarding finishing, without being so over-the-top Pollyanna that she would want to punch me.

The last 3.2 miles were very hard for her. I’m so proud of her for finishing that race. I was very worried about her and honestly wouldn’t have blamed her a bit for walking off that course. Something went wrong, and while that is frustrating, I think the hardest thing for her, and even me, to deal with is that no one is quite sure *what* went wrong. I know that is the nature of the marathon. All the planning and training in the world can’t guarantee a race of that distance will go smoothly.

For better or for worse, we made it to the finish line. I had not planned to cross the finish line with her, but obviously plans changed on a number of levels, and I couldn’t leave her alone. We got her medal, foil, and food, and I took her to Medical. I wasn’t sure if it was necessary, but I have also been close enough to nutrition and dehydration situations to know that I’d feel better if she got checked out before we went on our way that day. I couldn’t return her to her husband and kids broken!

Thankfully, medical cleared her pretty quickly, and she was even smiling about 15 minutes later. There were tears in there, too, but she seemed herself again (make no mistake, unlike baseball, there is ALWAYS crying in the marathon). It’s always cold after this race–the finish line is right up on the lakefront, and the wind can be fierce. We headed toward the car pretty quickly.

Friends nearby in Racine welcomed us into their homes for showers and scones, and then for lunch. We spent the rest of the afternoon with them, and it was relaxing. After loading up the car with Kringle from O & H and cheese curds from the Mars Cheese Castle in Kenosha, we headed back to Chicago. We grabbed dinner from the Lincoln Park Whole Foods–third largest in the country, with far more . We ate and went to bed. I know, it’s a wild life we live.

This pretty much sums up how happy the Wisconsin Marathon makes me.

Cheesiness in front of the Cheese Castle.

Sunday morning Katie and I went for a recovery run by the lake. We shuffled through three miles and then did some good stretching before heading to the ‘burbs to worship with my parents and model the latest in runner fashion: Katie’s compression socks under a maxi-dress combo. It was so good to see my parents. After church we went to Portillo’s to have lunch, and Katie got to have her first Chicago dog. We also made a quick stop by Naperville Running Company, where I found a special-edition Oiselle tee and some cherry-limeade Nuun, while Katie and Kristiana both got fitted for new shoes. I think Katie also got to have some good race analysis with the awesome gentleman fitting her. Thank, NRC!

This shirt is as soft as it is adorable. And that Nuun stuff is pretty good too, you know.

All that was left then was to come home. We’d pretty much done as much stuff as three runners can do in 52 hours or so. The “A” Goal of getting Katie to Boston was not achieved. But the goal of having a great time? That was met in spades. Another runcation success, in the books.

When you run outside, you become very interested in the weather. It dictates what you wear. It demands you move your run or put off your run until the rain lets up or the lightning moves out of the area. Sometimes, the weather is powerful enough to throw out your training plan, your money invested in a race-centered trip, and your race goal itself.

Yesterday was that day.

I had suggested the Berry Half Marathon to my husband way back in late 2012. I ran it in 2011 and it was great. He was coming off Ragnar Tennessee and looking for something to carry that momentum through to our next Ragnar in June. Berry fits a lot of our criteria: Saturday race, not too expensive, and close-ish to where we live. It also happens to be held on the campus where we both went to college, where we met, and where we got married. In fact, the race benefits the campus elementary school where his groomsman teaches, and where the kids of my bridesmaid attend. Easy choice.

David trained hard for this race. He’s had a rough couple of halves and wanted a good race, especially on his old turf. Along the way, we recruited most of our Ragnar team, and a couple of friends, to come and have a mini-reunion for the race.

We all had our goals. David was on track to set a massive PR (In my opinion, he had the potential to break it by 20 minutes). Katie was using it as a race-day practice and long tempo run as she prepares to qualify for Boston. Her husband Jason could’ve been looking at an age group award. Aron was returning to the half-marathon after a decade off. Sara wants a redemption race after a disappointing first half in the fall. Jan and Cris were running the 10k, just because they cared enough about being with us to fork over money for a race and drive all the way to Berry to hang out.

As for me, I wasn’t actually running the race, but instead watching our children and Katie and Jason’s kids while everyone else ran. I was looking forward to a lot of things. I wanted our Ragnar team at least partially together for a post-race lunch. And I was so excited to give Katie and Jason a chance to run the same race, And since David is unfailingly supportive of me running and racing and traveling to race, I wanted to give him the chance to run one. I also had hoped that when Jason finished I’d be able to find a friend/teammate to keep an eye on our kids, and to run David in to the finish line.

Our kids were excited, too. On Thursday, they made signs to cheer on the runners and we read to them the history of Martha Berry and the school. On Friday, I took Katie and all the kids on a tour of Berry/course tour and showed them the school landmarks, and the landmarks of David’s and my relationship. The kids (ages 4-7) collected cowbells and snacks at the race expo, excited to put them to good use to cheer on their family, friends, and other runners at the race.

But none of it happened. NONE of it. A line of storms moved through the Rome, GA area early Saturday morning. We awoke to thunder and lightning. Before we left the hotel the race was delayed from 8AM to 9AM. It was raining hard. It wasn’t letting up. The runners went on and Aron’s wife and I wrangled kids into the car and to campus. We walked a long way to the race staging area at the Ford buildings, and along the way heard some kiddie whining and complaining about being cold, wet, and tired (all true, and probably true of the runners, too!) Along the way we got word of another delay–9:30.

The long kiddie walk in the rain.

Waiting… Waiting…

Vine video of the gym:

Then finally, the race director appeared and told us it was over. There would be no race. He cited safety concerns and expressed his sadness over it. The disappointment in the room was palpable. Runners dispersed quickly, and our group huddled. Sara had to leave as she needed to go to a funeral. I called Cris and Jan and they were already back at their car. But Katie, Jason, Aron and David all agreed-they wanted to run on Berry’s campus that day. I told them I was fine to watch the kids, and to go!

As the kids and I left the gym, the sky was a glorious post-storm blue, and the temperature was perfect. What a great day to run. Our group was not the only one to decide to run a bit that day. The kids got out their signs and cowbells and as we meandered back to the car they stopped for every runner and cheered for them. We even drove part of the campus looking for our group and the kids hung cowbells out the window for them. We caught Katie and Aron as we headed toward the now-deconstructed finish line and annoyed them cheered for them, too. As they headed toward the finish a race worker caught them and hung a medal around their necks.

The cheer crew that wasn’t.

Cheering anyway!

Cowbellin’ for Aron

Cowbellin’ for Katie

Choosing to run happy despite the events!

Afterward, we showered and had lunch, and dissected the morning. Here are my thoughts:

1. There are just times when the weather is a punk.

Berry is, as school literature once read “nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian mountains.” I was a reporter in Appalachia and the stories I remember most vividly are the flooding stories. Flooding in the mountains is real, and it’s dangerous. Weather Underground says Mount Berry got over an inch of rain Saturday, and it all fell by 9:30 AM. If a storm dumps a huge amount of rain in a mountain area (about 4 miles of the race are held on Berry’s “Mountain Campus”), it can do damage. Damage to roads, damage to trails, damage to poorly rooted trees, and damage to people who are insistent enough to be out in it. Weather is some powerful stuff, and it will humble you. Sometimes you just have to accept that it is more powerful than what your plans.

2. Race officials have more information than you do, and sometimes you just have to trust them.

I had the opportunity to speak with and observe the race director during the time our group was out running. He was talking to runners, he was facilitating the clean up, and he was busy. But more than once, I saw him look around at the empty area that should have been brimming with success and achievement, and saw him take in the emptiness of it. He had had to make a difficult decision.

When everyone walked out of the gym Saturday, the storm had broken. The lightning was gone. From what we could see, the threat was over, right? Well, we were on main campus, not on the mountain where there are portions of trail—dirt and rock trail. The race director said that in the time they’d waited for the lightning to pass, the storm had dumped enough rain on the course to wash out the trails.

Honestly, those trails had looked rough on Friday, before the storm. In fact, Katie and I had plotted some running strategy for them and talked about the need for caution as we drove on them. Damage from rain + thousands of pounding feet + runners focused on their race and not necessarily who else is running around them would’ve been a recipe for disaster. I pictured anything from twisted ankles, to falls, to a trampling situation.

No race director wants to cancel a race! But, this time, it had to be done.

3. Sometimes God answers prayers in ways different than the ways we might answer them.

In being with the four kids all weekend, I heard them pray more than once “Please don’t let any of the runners get hurt.” In my adult, runner-brain, that always means, “Please don’t let anyone have a heart attack at the finish line.” Because isn’t that the story we tend to hear? I actually even had a conversation with the kids, telling them that they didn’t need to worry about Mommy or Daddy getting hurt; that that’s why we train, to build up our muscles and bodies, etc. etc. etc.

I don’t know what danger the kids were envisioning, but what a timely prayer that was for this race! And it was answered. I emailed this to Katie Saturday night:

“I also thought about how much they (the kids) prayed for y’all’s safety and how… you’re safe. No one struck by lightning, crushed by a tree… No twisted ankles, no broken bones, no being trampled on by a herd of flighty runners… not even a defeated attitude from running a potentially discouraging race, or being worried about an unexpectedly technical course. Their little prayers were answered.”

I tell my kids all the time that I make my rules to keep them safe. Sometimes, I have to throw out our general rules to keep them safe in extreme situations. In this case, the race director was our parent, and made the decision to keep runners safe, even though from where we stood, there didn’t appear to be danger. I choose to respect and trust that decision.

So, going forward, what should Berry do? They don’t offer refunds, and honestly I’m fine with David’s race fee going to the schools—I know it’s a good cause, and furthers Martha Berry’s vision of well-educating students in Northwest Georgia.

I do think they need to remove the ‘rain or shine’ portion of the wording about the race if they continue to run the parts of the course on the trail. It’s an unfortunate un-truth if you have parts of the course that can be washed away.

I think the other option is to change the course. That would mean re-routing it away from the Old Mill, which is Berry’s landmark tourist attraction—it holds the title of being the most photographed place in Georgia. I’d hate to see that happen, but there are other roads on main campus that could make up a new course—including one that leads to Martha Berry’s original “Gate of Opportunity.”

Berry Half Marathon, you got handed a raw deal by the tremendous power of the weather God made. But you handled it well. You communicated with the runners, and you kept us safe. And we plan to be back. All of us. Thanks for making a potentially horrible experience one that was merely disappointing and humbling.

We ran into Marla, her husband and daughter as soon as we pulled up. She was ready to go and looking strong!

There was a good sized kids’ race since the event benefitted Decatur schools… And then the big kids lined up for the start.

Notice something missing? I think a lot of the ladies were at the ATC’s Women’s 5k.

The route looped back past the start within the first mile so we got to cheer A LOT. I missed Marla on the first pass but saw her come around the corner to the finish, all smiles and high fives. Tried to get a pic but couldn’t wrangle children, thunder sticks and my phone.
Congrats to Marla… And my friend Sarah, who I’ve known since middle school and now lives in DC. She is in town with her parents for the NCAA tournament, and her parents both won age group awards. Nice! Way to represent, Danville Kentucky!

I loooooved being the cheerleader today, loved returning to the site of my first 5k, and loved seeing a new runner finish her first race. Way to go Marla! Well done!

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